The Half Blood
by Lue'cleste
Summary: AU from HBP. A new DADA teacher at Hogwarts has surprises for all... Who is she, and what purpose does she have here? And what secrets is she hiding? And what's her relationship with two teachers? Eventual SS/OFC, and slight AD/MM in late chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The Half-Blood

Rated T

I don't own nuthin', except maybe Zeva, but yeah… not mine. No money made.

HBP AU. What could have happened if things had gone slightly different in HBP? Who would be around? What would have happened? How would people change?

A/N: This popped into my head one day in a cooking class when I was 17. I'm 23 and it's still rattling around in there, so I've decided to get my butt into gear and actually write it.

This is an AU story. As you can tell by the title, it's an alternative to HBP. However, the Half Blood and the Half-Blood Prince are two different people. I guess you could say that it's the way things could have been, and I'm probably going to have to write a sequel, but everything up to HBP is normal… except one small minor detail that many of you probably don't know anyway….

**HBHBHB**

_When one is Chosen from birth_

_To do what all think is impossible_

_One of half blood will rise up_

_One who is the fourth side of a triangle_

_And will channel the powers of the three_

_To stop the world falling into darkness_

_But hark! The One will need a reason_

_Or the One shall fall_

_Guard well the One for without the One_

_The one who is Chosen may not succeed _

_And the One shall depart from this world_

_Love the One, for the One is necessary…_

_- 7__th__ Prophecy of Xandara_

**HBHBHB**

It was the start of a new year. Students were sitting at their tables, waiting for the Sorting to begin, when the doors of the Great Hall opened, and a slight figure dressed and hooded in green walked up to the Head Table, a young wolf at their heels. When they reached Professor Dumbledore, they pulled their hood back, revealing a wealth of auburn curls.

"Sorry I'm late." She announced in a clear voice. "The weather was terrible, and Lupa nearly refused to come with me." The wolf at her heels put its tale between its legs at the mention of its name. "She can be quite difficult when she chooses to be, but I love her anyway." She reached down and rubbed between the wolf's ears.

"No worries, my dear. Please, take your seat." Dumbledore gestured to the only empty seat, between Professor Snape, and Professor Sprout.

"Thank you, Professor." She moved to her seat, Lupa following her, seemingly oblivious to the whispers flying through the Great Hall. As she was taking her seat, Professor McGonagall led in the First Years for their Sorting.

As she sat and listened to McGonagall's speech, Snape looked down at Lupa with a scowl. The woman looked at him with twinkling blue eyes. "She's just wet. Normally she doesn't smell much at all."

Snape just snorted and turned to see the first student being sorted.

Zeva couldn't help herself. She remembered this man, even if he apparently didn't remember her, and she couldn't help but rile him up a bit. As the Sorting Hat was placed on the first's student's head, she leaned toward him and whispered, "Hufflepuff."

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Hat yelled. Snape turned to her with an eyebrow raised. Zeva smirked. "Want to place any wagers on the next one? I say Slytherin."

Snape looked at her disapprovingly, and turned back to the student as the hat yelled "SLYTHERIN!" Professor Sprout tried to stifle a smile.

And so it went, Zeva whispering which house the student would be placed in before the hat itself even could. Sprout was looking at her in wonder, and about halfway through, she felt a familiar nudging at her mind. Adjusting her shields to allow him in, she heard Dumbledore's voice. "Really, my dear, that's quite bad form. Although it is amusing to see Severus off guard." She heard the Headmaster chuckle softly. "Tell me, which one is this one going in?"

Smiling, she mentally answered, "Gryffindor. And the one after Ravenclaw."

"You know, you shouldn't be doing this? Using your skills in this manner is frowned upon."

"Can I claim racial immunity?" Dumbledore chuckled again.

And back and forth it went, Dumbledore guessing, and Zeva either agreeing or correcting him. After a few minutes, Snape whispered to her, "What, got tired of an uninterested audience?"

"No, just found one that was interesting." And she turned back to her silent conversation, ignoring him.

Finally, the Sorting was over, and Dumbledore stood to give his start of term speech.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. For many of you, it is the start of another year. For some of you, the start of a new adventure. Remember to always stick together, no matter what. Dark things are afoot, and it wouldn't do to have everyone divided. Divided, we stand alone. United we are unstoppable. I should also add, that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students, who do not wish to die a painful death. And last, but certainly not least, I wish to introduce you all to our latest Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Zeva Emaris, who has recently returned from researching abroad in Egypt. Please, join me in wishing her a very warm welcome." The students clapped. "And now, tuck in!"

Food appeared on the tables, and everyone began to eat. Zeva chatting idly to Sprout, until Snape leaned towards her and asked, "What were you researching in Egypt?"

Zeva smirked again, her blue eyes twinkling. "That's for me to know, and you to find out." Snape scowled and turned back to his food. There was something a bit strange about this woman… and familiar…

**HBHBHB**

Snape sighed and sat back further in his chair in the corner of the staffroom, if that were possible. He hated staff meetings, and why there needed to be one the night the students returned was beyond him. If you weren't prepared by now, chances are you wouldn't be by the next morning.

His curiosity was piqued when he saw Zeva, that new teacher, arrive chatting animatedly to Minerva. What made him even more curious was that Zeva called the older woman 'Godmother.' Minerva was a godmother? He tuned in to their conversation, all the while maintaining his bored exterior.

"You look so much like your mother, dear." Minerva said, a slightly sad smile crossing her face. "Though you do have your father's eyes."

Zeva also smiled sadly. "I just wish I could remember her, Godmother."

"Now now, dear, none of that 'Godmother' while we're here. It's Minerva. And you were far too young to remember Xara. No one can expect you to remember a mother that died giving you life."

"I know. It's just… you know. And it's going to be difficult, calling everyone by their first names, especially, well, you know…"

Minerva laid a hand on the younger woman's arm. "I know dear. After all, he is your-"

Hagrid's loud arrival cut off the rest of Minerva's sentence, and Snape inwardly cursed the half-Giant. He could have just found out an interesting piece of information if not for that oaf. He sighed, and settled in for a long and boring meeting.

About halfway through the meeting, he stifled a yawn, and decided to do a sweep of the room for two reasons: one, it kept him awake and in practice, and two: ever since Moody's year long replacement, he did legillimency scans regularly, to make sure there were no imposters. The benefits outweighed the negatives, especially if it kept him awake.

When he got to Zeva's mind, he was surprised to find a firm Occlumency shield in place. It was as strong as Dumbledore's, or even the Dark Lord's himself. Suddenly, he felt another presence in his mind, and realised too late that she had traced him, and used that to enter his mind. Her voice sounded slightly amused in his head as she admonished him. "That's not very polite, you know."

"Perhaps not polite, but an unfortunate necessity."

"Not true. It is a necessity, but you also do it to keep yourself amused."

"And your name isn't really Zeva."

"No, it isn't. Close though." She was being evasive.

He tried another tact. "How did you become such an accomplished Occlumens?"

"I was born that way. How did you become so accomplished?"

"Practice. It's important to keep in practice too, or you lose your skills."

"I know. Try to get in my head any time you want. You won't succeed. No one ever has gotten in without my permission. Thank you for giving me a glimpse into your mind. I know its imprint now. It'd do you good to remember mine."

And she was gone from his head, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get back into hers. And the smirk on her face, as well as what had come across during the conversation, proved her to be correct. No one could get in without her permission. And what had she meant by 'imprint'?

**A/N Well, that's the prologue. If anyone's interested, 'Zeva' is Hebrew for 'wolf', 'Lupa' is Latin for 'she-wolf' and Zeva Emaris isn't her real name, although her real name will be revealed later on. And she was telling the truth: it is close. The reason for her hiding her name will also be revealed later, and Dumbledore does know her real name. Also the meaning of 'imprint' should be obvious from her discussion with Dumbledore.**

**Please review! Feed the bunnies!**


	2. 1 Settling In

The Half-Blood.

A/N. I apologise for the lateness in my updating, I had a lot of trouble with this chapter. Also, I apologise for the multitude of spelling and grammar errors in the prologue; I was rather tired when I finished it, as such, it was not at all up to my usual standards, which I like to think of as along the lines of the Borg: Perfection. I should also add, this will be a much more Snape-centric story than it would have been in canon. But, that's the beauty of AU for you!

I should also be updating this story more regularly, now things in my life have settled down to a degree. And please, feed the starving writer! Review!

Chapter One: Settling In.

Breakfast was an unusual affair. It seemed the new professor's pet wolf followed her everywhere. She ate her food off a plate the house elves had set under the table next to Zeva's feet, and sat, waiting patiently for her mistress to finish, in no seeming hurry. Zeva herself didn't seem too concerned about the whispers and glances directed her way, rather, she kept a discussion up with Professor McGonagall, a smile on her face the entire time.

Snape looked with distaste down at the wolf. The wolf looked back up at him, and cocked her head, seemingly curious. Then she seemed to actually grin at him, and her tongue lolled out, as if she were laughing. Snape snorted, and turned back to his food, missing the amused look Zeva gave him.

As he scowled at his plate, he heard Minerva's voice float over to him. "Oh, yes, he's still the same as he was when you were at school here, my dear," she was saying. "Though I dare say, he may have gotten a worse temperament."

If possible, Severus scowled harder at his plate, convinced it was him they were discussing.

"Well, I didn't expect much different, Minerva," he heard Zeva's voice reply. "And you know how I felt about him in school. But, being an outcast… I never acted on my feelings. School was painful enough for me as it was, being, well…"

Severus missed hearing Minerva's reply in the babble of students. However, he was now certain they were discussing someone else. Probably another faculty member she had had a crush on in her time here. He snorted. Pathetic. Not even here a day, and already she was trying to get information out of the Deputy Headmistress about some staff member she had 'feelings' for.

His train of thought suddenly halted when he remembered the conversation in the staff room the night previous. He nearly smacked himself in the head. Of course, she wasn't cosying up to her as the Deputy… she was cosying up to her Godmother! He wasn't sure which he felt was worse.

"Is something wrong, Severus?" He turned to see Zeva and Minerva both looking at him. "Your food won't bite, you know," Zeva said, in a tone reminiscent of Albus when he was admonishing him in his office for swirling his tea instead of drinking it.

Abruptly, Severus stood up. "I have classes to prepare for," he stated, turning stiffly on his heel, and leaving the hall. He missed the tinkling of Zeva's laughter, and Minerva's headshake.

"Are you sure about this?" the older woman asked.

"He's still the same person underneath," Zeva replied, her voice taking on a slightly far-away tone. "But sure? I don't think I can be. My mother was sure, but Father… he made his feelings well known from the start, from what Grandmother told me."

Minerva laid a hand on Zeva's arm, "Be careful, my dear."

"Careful? I can do careful. I've been doing careful for a long time now."

**HBHBHB**

Zeva's first class of the day was the sixth year Gryffindor/Slytherin mix. She groaned when she saw it. Those two houses rarely got on well together in the higher years. She made a mental note to keep an eye out for any extra trouble.

She headed to the front of the classroom, and sat at the desk, Lupa lying at her feet. Soon enough, she heard the students outside. "Come on in!" she called. Hesitantly, the students filed in and sat at desks scattered throughout the room. With a shock, she recognised one student instantly, and was brought back to her own school days. Shaking her head, she came back to the present. Of course she would have Harry Potter sooner or later… she just hadn't expected him to look so similar to James.

When the class was full, she stood and cleared her throat. "I am Professor Zeva Emaris. I will be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. I will brook no rule breaking, sneaking of hexes, or any untoward behaviour from any of you. No exceptions. Any such behaviour will lead to an immediate detention. Practical jokes, however, are a specialty of mine. I do not mind the occasional practical joke, so long as it is harmless, but be warned: I will retaliate. And I have a range of spells at my disposal, the likes of which you have never before seen." She paused for a moment. "Now that you know who I am, and what the rules are, I want each of you to stand up and introduce yourself, telling me three things about yourself, starting with you," she pointed at a boy in the front row, nearest to the door.

Shakily, the boy stood. "I-I'm N-Neville Longbottom," he stammered. From the back of the room, a boy with a pointed face, and pale blonde hair snickered, and nasally mimicked the boy. Without even changing her expression, Zeva waved her hand, and a cloud of butterflies surrounded the boy, who jumped up, swatting at them. "Sit down," Zeva ordered him. Looking her in the eye, the boy sat down, the butterflies settling on him as he did so. He mumbled something about his father hearing about this. Zeva subtly probed his mind. "I'm sure if your father heard about this, Mr. Malfoy, he would be most upset about hearing his son being caught, off guard, within minutes of his first Defence lesson of the year. Am I correct?" She kept complete eye contact with the boy, as he squirmed, eventually breaking her eye contact and slumping in his chair. "You didn't answer me, Mr. Malfoy. Am I correct?"

The boy shifted again, dislodging a few butterflies that flittered for a moment before settling back down on him, and mumbled, "No."

"I didn't hear that."

Louder, the boy answered, "No."

"Much better," Zeva nodded. "Mr. Longbottom, please continue."

Zeva noticed a number of the Gryffindors were trying to hide grins, as Longbottom stated, with a little more confidence, that his favourite subject was Herbology, he wanted to be the best he can in Defence because of what happened to his parents, and that his Boggart was Professor Snape, which earned a few snickers from the room.

Along the rows she went, each student introducing themselves, and saying three things about themselves. She was impressed to find out that Harry could produce a full Patronus in his third year, thoughtful when she learned that Ron Weasley hated spiders, was quite interested to hear that Morgan Moon was studying to become an animagus, and quite disappointed that Draco Malfoy only wanted to brag about his rich family.

Once the introductions were done, she turned to the board, but a voice piped up, "What about you, Professor? Can you tell us three things about yourself?"

Zeva turned around. "Well, if you insist, Mr. Potter. Very well. I was a Gryffindor when I was at Hogwarts, I studied under the great Master Thauranan in Egypt for many years, and, I am accomplished in wandless magic, as you have no doubt seen," she turned back around to the board, ignoring the whispers about Master Thauranan. He was a master in many fields, and took on very few apprentices. His fame bordered on legend.

With a flick of her hand, the days lesson appeared on the board. "Today, we will be looking at the different sides of spells. Many people see spells as clearly light or dark, but what a lot of people fail to see, is that many spells can be a number of shades of grey. We will start with the Unforgivables. Can anyone name one of the Unforgivables for me, and why it is unforgivable?"

A number of hands raised in the air. "Mr. Potter?"

"Avada Kadavra. The Killing Curse. It kills someone almost instantly, and cannot be blocked," He stated darkly.

"Very good," Zeva put it up on the board.

"Mr. Zabini?"

"Imperio. It gives you complete control over someone's actions, and words, unless they can fight it."

"Again, very good," Zeva added that to the board.

"Miss Granger?"

"Crucio, also known as the Cruciatus Curse. It causes a person to feel unbearable pain, at the will of the caster."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor, and five points to Slytherin for your answers. Now, we shall examine which of these curses is the most unforgivable, and why," she pursed her lips. "Let's start with the Killing Curse. Can anyone think of a positive use for it? Any use?"

The class was silent. Hesitantly, Hermione Granger put up her hand. "Euthanasia?" she asked tentatively. A few people snorted.

"An interesting choice. The death of someone at their own request to end their suffering from an incurable disease. Why not use a poison instead?"

Hermione took a deep breath before answering. "A poison can be traced, or leave signs on the body, perhaps a colour or scent. The Killing Curse leaves no mark. In fact, it may even be believed that the person died due to their illness, and there would be no investigation into their cause of death. Also, less traceable poisons are harder to brew, which the average brewer may not be able to adequately make."

"An interesting argument. Tell me, how would you manage to cast the curse on a loved one?"

Hermione fell silent, biting her lip. Zeva looked around the room, her eyes falling onto Ron Weasley. "Mr. Weasley. You said you have a great fear of spiders?"

Ron looked down at his desk before answering, "Yes. I'm terrified of them."

"Would you hesitate to kill a spider? Do you hate spiders that much?"

Ron looked slightly confused, before answering, "Yes, of course."

"What if you focused on your hatred of spiders, or something else, into the casting of the curse? It requires intent to kill, not intent to kill the target," Zeva looked around the class. "Remember that. The Killing Curse requires the intention to kill, but not of the target itself. Many people have used it as such, on a target they felt nothing for."

Zeva waited while the class seemed to absorb the information she had just given them. "Now, the Imperius, or the Imperio curse. Can anyone find any positive use for it?"

The class fell completely silent. "Nobody? Mr. Zabini, you were the one who mentioned this curse. Can you stand up for me?"

Slowly, Blaise Zabini stood up. "Mr. Zabini, I'm sure you may find this exercise fun. I want you to draw your wand, and point it randomly at your classmates. Act as if you are going to do anything, at any moment, however, only act it."

Grinning, Blaise started pointing and thrusting his wand randomly, lunging now and then for extra effect. "Now, we are in a crowded establishment of some sort. We have a person who is obviously quite upset. We could stun him, but there's a crowd of people. What if the Auror misses him? Same goes for the body bind, and Expelliarmus. A miss could tip Mr. Zabini here over the edge." Blaise gave a well timed lunge for effect. "An Imperius, on the other hand, is not seen. An Auror could miss the target, and the target may not know it. An Imperio cast on Mr. Zabini here, could make him stop what he is doing, and walk outside, where he can be apprehended and taken into custody quietly."

Zeva motioned for Blaise to sit. "That is one positive aspect of the Imperius. And ten points to Slytherin for a very good performance, Mr. Zabini."

Hermione Granger spoke up. "What if the person could throw off an Imperio, like Harry?" Zeva's response was a raised eyebrow, "Then you'd better hope the Aurors have a very good aim, Miss Granger."

Zeva took a breath. Here was where it got very difficult. "Now, can anyone tell me a positive use for the Cruciatus?"

No one answered. The class was so silent, you could have heard a leaf drop. "Nobody?" Zeva asked. "Very good. There isn't one. The Cruciatus has no positive use whatsoever. And for that reason, my belief is that that is the reason the Cruciatus is the worst of the Unforgivable curses."

Zeva moved to stand in front of her desk, facing the class. "The reason these three curses are all listed as Unforgivables can be boiled down to a Muggle saying: 'Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.' Wizards and witches, having such power at their fingertips, have, over the ages, fallen victim to that saying. And have used these curses to the point where the use of them now, without authorisation, leads to a lifetime stint in Azkaban. Hopefully, today's discussion has opened your eyes somewhat to the fact that not everything is clear cut black and white… even though it appears to be. I would like a three foot essay on what other curses, jinxes, hexes and the like, could be used to harm someone when they appear harmless, and vice versa. Your choice which spells you use. I would like them on my desk by the end of the week." A chorus of groans went up from the class. "No exceptions. I will only accept loss of limbs, and/or life to prevent you from completing this essay. To those who take Care of Magical Creatures, be extra careful." There was some stifled laughter.

"Class dismissed."

**HBHBHB**

Severus sat in the Great Hall for lunch, scowling at the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was eating with a rather sour look on his face as people laughed. Every time he moved, butterflies would flutter around before settling back onto him.

Zeva came in and plopped into the seat next to him, and turned to Minerva, who had a strange smirk on her face. "Something amusing, Minerva?"

Minerva turned to Zeva, "Just wondering who charmed butterflies to stick to young Mr. Malfoy."

Zeva looked slightly sheepish. Minerva's eyes widened. "You didn't!"

"Well, it may teach him to keep his mouth closed within the first five minutes of my class. I'd barely gotten past my speech when he mocked another student. The boy was warned. They'll disappear by bedtime, anyway."

Severus' slow drawl interrupted. "Perhaps you could remove them now? The boy has a double potions next class, and I would be quite… adverse… to Mr. Malfoy being untowardly distracted."

Zeva shot back at him, "Perhaps it will teach him more than one lesson. Brewing conditions are not always to absolute scratch. He could learn from brewing a potion while distracted. I had to brew quite a number of potions while dealing with Imata's grandchildren running around."

Albus turned his twinkling eyes towards the three. "How is my dear friend Imata? I meant to ask you when you arrived."

Zeva laughed, "He's the same as always. Stirring up my cousins no end. Aunt Xeri swears that those children will give her grey hairs. Of course, she's as bad as he is, so she can't really talk. She loves to spoil her grandchildren too."

Albus laughed a deep laugh. "I see that you modified his butterfly spell. I'm sure he'll be proud to hear it put to good use in a classroom."

Severus' eyes narrowed as he put the two names together. Xeri was an uncommon name, as was Imata. In fact… "Are you talking about Xeri and Imata Thauranan?" He bluntly asked.

"Why, yes," Zeva replied. "Imata was my teacher for many years. He always had a soft spot for me growing up."

"You mean to say, that you are related to the great master Thauranan?" Severus stated in a flat tone, as if he didn't believe her.

"Of course. His wife, Xeri, is my mother's youngest sister."

"Xeri is a Dryad." Severus' eyes narrowed even further. "And not just any Dryad, but the daughter of Queen Xandara, if I remember correctly. Are you going to tell me next that you are one of the granddaughters of Queen Xandara?"

Zeva looked him right in the eye. "I'm not going to tell you. You just stated it for yourself."

Severus suddenly hissed. "Now I know who you are… Xeva. It all fits now. A slight change on the sound and spelling of your name, a change of your last name… How on earth do you get away with such deception?"

Albus cut in, his eyes no longer twinkling. "That will do, Severus. And this conversation will go no further. If Xeva does not wish for herself to be known as a half-Dryad, then that is her choice."

Severus stood up abruptly. "I will be no party to any deception. If you wish to put your reputation at stake, go right ahead. I, however, will not." And he spun on his heel and left in a billow of robes.

Xeva's head hit the table. This was not going well at all.

Under the table, Lupa let out a soft whimper.

A/N So, some of Zeva's background is revealed. A bit more will be revealed later on, but suffice to say, yes, she was in the same year as James and Severus. And being half-Dryad gives her some special gifts, including the Legillimency/Occlumency abilities, and her heightened magical skills (for the record, Dryads are highly magical, and not very many of them don't have wizarding blood in them somewhere. They tend to use wandless magic moreso than wands, but being partly human many are allowed wands. There also aren't very many of them, perhaps a few hundred, but they are not to be trifled with.). There's a few more gifts, but they will be revealed at a later date, and are not integral to the story, except as a bit of background filler. And yes, her and Severus will make up at some point soon. I intend her to be a love interest for Severus as a part of the story, and I can't have them not talking for too long. He'll come around when he finds out something interesting…

Also, if anyone has picked up on the predominance of 'X' in the Dryad names, I based the Dryads on the Dryads from David and Leigh Eddings' 'Belgariad' and 'Malloreon' book series, with a few tweaks. Xeva is loosely based on Ce'Nedra, however, not entirely. From Ce'Nedra comes the idea of Dryads, the liking of green, and her short stature. Both have auburn hair, however, Xeva's comes from another source.


	3. 2 Mistakes and Corrections

The Half-Blood.

Chapter Two- Mistakes and Corrections.

The next few weeks did not go too well for Zeva. Though she focused on her lessons, corrected essays, and taught well, even showing some interesting spells to some of her students, her mind was never fully on her task. Severus always lurked in the back of her mind, and his absolute rejection of her once he realised who she was. He avoided her, he snarked at her, and it made her feel miserable. Not to mention Minerva wasn't helping much. Her glares at Severus only seemed to make things worse, and her words of comfort were little help.

She sighed, and rested her head back on the armchair she was sitting in, a glass of wine in her hand. Trying to relax wasn't working. Lupa put her head on her lap, and she absently patted the young wolf's head. Looking into Lupa's golden eyes, Zeva got the impression of wanting to run. Smiling slightly, she got up, threw a green cloak over her robes and motioned Lupa to follow her. Perhaps a run would help clear her head, even if only for a short time.

**HBHBHB**

Severus sat in an armchair, his head in his hands, willing himself to get up and get a headache potion. Honestly, each year, the students got worse. Spelling, grammar… even the ability to put in the correct ingredients in essays! A part of his mind told him that he brought it on himself, setting so many essays, but if he didn't set the essays, how else would they learn? If they couldn't write a proper essay, there was no way they could brew a proper potion.

Finally willing himself to move, he got up and walked over to a cabinet beside the window of his private lounge area. Opening it, he took out a vial of headache potion, and downed it in one go, wincing at the taste, but enjoying the feeling of his head clearing.

As he turned, he happened to glance out the window. A figure was moving furtively across the grounds. He looked closer, trying to determine whether or not it was a student, until he saw the wolf. He snorted. As he was about to turn away, he saw the figure change, and run, the wolf following.

"Well, well, well," Severus mused out loud. "She's an animagus as well." He scowled. Still, weeks later, her deception rankled him. Why couldn't she just say who she was? And how could she get away with a fake last name?

Secretly, he admitted to himself, he knew a part of why he had been alternating between avoiding her, and sending extra snarky comments her way was because he should have recognised her. He remembered the frizzy little red head, battling him for marks, outcast even from her own house. Yes, that had to be it. She had been nothing much to look at in their school days, but had grown into a beautiful young woman. But her name…

Sighing, he walked back to his chair and sat down, only to be blinded by a flash of flames. "Bloody hell, Fawkes!" he cursed the phoenix briefly, as the phoenix dropped a rolled up parchment in his lap, before disappearing again in a burst of flame.

He looked down at the parchment. Why couldn't Albus use the Floo, like everyone else? Shrugging, he unrolled the parchment. Enclosed was a note in the Headmaster's handwriting.

_Severus._

_I think your little hissy fit has gone on for far too long, and you need some answers. I hope what you find enclosed contains them._

_I don't like my staff holding petty grudges, Severus._

_Albus._

Severus snorted. He did, however, unroll a worn looking piece of parchment, and frowned. It was a family tree. Scanning the names, he realised it followed a matriarchal line. As he scanned down the parchment, he saw the name Xandara Emaris, with a crown next to it. Off Xandara and her husband's name was a line of names. The firstborn was listed as Xiri Emaris, who had three children with a Tohma. All three children bore the last name Emaris. Next to Xiri's name was a smaller crown. The crown princess. The second born was Xara Emaris (dec), her husband's name, and her daughter… Xeva Emaris. He looked at the rest of Xandara's children. She had seven children, a mix of boys and girls. The youngest was Xeri, Imata Thauranan's wife, also listed as Emaris. Her two daughters were also Emaris, as were her five grandchildren.

Severus set the parchment down and considered what it read. According to this parchment, which appeared very old, the entire royal line bore the last name Emaris. And it seemed matriarchal. He closed his eyes with realisation as to how she had deceived them all. According to Dryad tradition… her last name was actually Emaris. She hadn't deceived them at all. She had just used her last name by rights of half of her heritage.

'And why shouldn't she?' a voice in the back of his mind whispered. 'You did the same. And maybe she wanted to be her own person… away from everything that name entailed… just like you…'

Severus decided that perhaps it was time to do some research into Dryads. If nothing else, it might help him ignore the nagging voice in the back of his mind (that sounded suspiciously like Albus), and it had piqued his curiosity. Of course, the Dark Lord would want to know more about this new teacher, and any information he found may just help her stay alive. There was an old saying in Pureblood families, one he had heard when staying with his mother's family one summer; 'Hell hath no fury like nature scorned'. Upon asking where it came from, his grandmother had shrugged and simply said, "Everyone knows. The Dryads."

**HBHBHB**

A few hours later found Severus sitting in his lounge again, stacks of books in a table in front of him. Madam Pince would no doubt try to have him strung by his toes, for taking so many books at such a late hour, but he'd left a note, and was a member of staff.

Next to the stack of books was a piece of parchment, with notes scribbled in his spiky handwriting. He'd learned that Dryads were naturally born Occlumens and Legilimens, and had in fact, taught the ability to others. Dryads also often had the ability of wandless magic: it was even speculated in one book that Dryad outbreeding had produced the wizarding society as it was today. Severus had snorted at that. Dryads were in fact, quite matrilineal, and the wizarding world certainly leaned the other way, in many cases.

Dryads were virtually indistinguishable from humans. In fact, many were part human somewhere along their line. As such, they were considered equals of wizards and witches, and no definite line was drawn between the two peoples. Quite possibly because, when provoked, Dryads became quite fearsome, and what sane ministry would try and tell them they were lesser beings?

One story did intrigue him. A few hundred years ago, a man had come to the Dryads, with the intention of courting one as a wife, to have highly magical children, and therefore, increase his status in society at the time. The idiot had not been a very accomplished Occlumens, and had been chased out by a horde of angry Dryads, and warned not to return on pain of death. A footnote read that Dryads were very protective of each other, and most especially, of their royal line. Severus smiled a slow, rather evil smile. That fact alone made her untouchable. If anyone tried to harm Xeva, the entire Dryad population would no doubt retaliate.

Stretching his back, Severus set to making another set of notes: for the Dark Lord. No doubt he would be displeased at the information, but the fact he had done his research well would compensate him. And hopefully, stop the madman from making a very dangerous mistake.

**HBHBHB**

After running for a few hours, Zeva decided to go back inside. Lupa protested, but acceded to her wishes. Zeva was the leader of their pack after all. Lupa had her concerns about her pack leader. She could tell that she felt something for the man who looked down at her at breakfast each morning, a sneer on his face. His scent, however, told another story. He was curious. Something about her pack leader interested him, even when he hurt her, he was curious. And attracted. Lupa just wished that her pack leader could see what she saw, or rather, saw and smelt. Body language was a form of communication among wolves, and Zeva knew that. It was one of the ways they communicated. Lupa's tail drooped at the thought that her pack leader may not be seeing things as they really were. If only…

Lupa's ears pricked. She needed help, someone she could talk to. Lupa couldn't convey more than feelings and basic communication most of the time, and Zeva had been reluctant to talk in her wolf-form that night. But there was someone here she could talk to. Lupa knew she'd have to time it right, and not let her pack leader know what she was doing. If she was told not to do anything, she could not, but her actions would be in the best interests of her pack leader.

Lupa waited that night, dozing by the fireplace, waiting for Zeva to go to bed. When her breathing finally became even, she got up, and padded through the halls of Hogwarts, heading to the Headmaster's office. She just hoped that her plan worked.

**HBHBHB**

Zeva awoke late the next morning. As it was a Saturday, she didn't have to worry about classes, so she was not too concerned. She closed her eyes, and went to go back to sleep when a voice filled her mind, Little One sleep long, with troubled dreams. Little One's mother be sad to see.

Zeva's eyes shot open, and to the side table next to her bed, where a phoenix sat. "Fawkes…" she breathed.

Little One troubled about Dark Man. Little One should not be troubled.

Fawkes Zeva said back, using the speech her people used to communicate with phoenixes, I-I don't know what to do. I didn't expect him to reject me so outright.

Little One should not be troubled. Dark Man understands now.

Has _he_ been meddling?

Albus always meddles, Little One. All will be well with Dark Man.

Zeva sighed. Fawkes, I know you know his name. And you haven't called me 'Little One' since I was a child.

You are confused now as like a child, Xeva. All will be well. He is of the Prophecy of Xandara.

Which one?

Read again. You always read. Read again, and you will know. And Fawkes disappeared in a burst of flames, leaving a trilling song behind him.

Zeva sighed, climbed out of bed, and walked to her bookshelf, taking down a slim volume with elaborate vines and leaves embossed on its battered cover. Sitting back down on her bed, she opened it and began to read. '1st Prophecy of Xandara III, Dryad Queen.'

**HBHBHB**

A few hours later, there was a knock on Zeva's door. Setting aside her book, she got up to open it, only to see Severus. "What do you want?"

"I want to ask why you used your mother's last name."

Zeva rubbed her temples, and let him in. "It's my birthright. I'm half-Dryad. I can use either name, as either is accepted." Deciding to ignore him, she walked into her bedroom, and grabbed a dressing gown to cover the green satin nightgown she wore. He followed her. "I don't think that's the full reason."

Zeva whirled around to face him angrily. "Oh? What reason do you think I might have for using a name that's my birthright to use?"

Severus stared her down, "Your father has many enemies. He is also famous. Perhaps, you were trying to distance yourself from him?"

"I have never distanced myself from Father! Ever! Don't you understand, I'm all he has left! My mother died giving birth to me! He grieved for her for years! Even though he was away a lot, we remained in constant contact! He was what got me through school, knowing that I could make him proud! He saw me sad, outcast, and tried his best! I would never, _ever_ distance myself from him!" Tears rolled down Zeva's face. She turned away from him. "Leave. Leave now."

Severus stood stiffly for a moment, then turned to leave. Zeva missed the glace he threw over his shoulder before he left, Lupa padding unnoticed behind him.

**HBHBHB**

As always, please review! Suggestions are welcome, I only have a basic plot outline, however, the plot sometimes deviates to a degree. Just want to feel a bit appreciated in my writing.

Yes, this was a bit of a filler chapter. Severus coming to see Zeva is in a way, his form of an apology. He didn't expect to make her angry, however. He does make more of an effort in later chapters. He also screws up a lot. She's chasing him, he, on some level, is attracted to her, and they both have tempers and a stubborn streak. Throw in an interfering Albus, a phoenix friend of Zeva's from when she was a child (phoenixes view time differently, mind you), and a wolf looking out for her pack leader, and it's a bit of a recipe for disaster.


End file.
